Satirical misadventures
by canihavea-soda
Summary: It's about time authors were able to poke fun at themselves. So, here is 'Soda', the attempting self-insertee, for whom everything, including her own Mary-Sue-isation, will go wrong. A mere parody...
1. Chapter one

Satirical misadventures  
  
Disclaimer: I dub thee the stupidest person alive if you believe me to be the deceased genius, J.R.R Tolkein. You fool!  
  
~/*\~/*\~/*\~ Chapter One: Getting there for a start! ~/*\~/*\~/*\~  
  
I would like to take this time in order to introduce the heroine of this series of complete and utter disasters - me! Yes, ah dear, would you look at that? A self-insertion author story of all things! [Gasp]. Oh no, and I bet you believe I'm going to end up as a pretty elf and attempt to get into Legolas' tights (or various other male, female, hermaphrodite figures in the world of Middle Earth.) I can't promise that I won't turn into a nymphomaniac half way through and attempt to jump various characters, but I can promise that I won't be a pretty elf...  
  
Well, technically, I promise nothing at all, since I have to attempt to get into this blasted Middle Earth place first. Now, looking through other stories in which people from 'our' world get sucked into Middle Earth, I find they're all taken in by magic, or some kind of electrocution business. Neither of these appeals to me much...since magic is well [snort] think it through yourself. And being electrocuted doesn't sound...well, nice, if you catch my drift?  
  
Any suggestions on how I can get into Middle Earth then? Maybe if I get drunk...and fall asleep in the middle of some lonely moor in the middle of a snow storm, I'll get there. I suppose it might be worth a try... Shall we go? I think the aptly named 'Prancing Pony' down the road should do well enough. Maybe a place named so could lead me through a drunken stupor towards Middle Earth? If not, then I shall have to try another way, or this series of (mis)adventures will not get very far, will it?  
  
Now, off we go. Do grab your coats on the way out, it is rather a chilly evening, and I wouldn't want you all to catch colds. I will of course be grabbing a sword that is far too heavy for me to heft, and waving it around with mystical ease whilst I'm waiting. Hmm, hah, I challenge you, Master Mist, to a duel. What's that, dog? You are but water vapour, you say? Ah, your fancy words shall not fool me, hyahh, take that!  
  
So, are you ready yet? Do come along, this mist is beginning to build, and we don't want to lose our way tonight. Not when I have enough money on me to drink a whole herd of iron-stomached elephants into a coma. And, well, there are rather a few of you coming along, so I suppose drinks are on me!  
  
I knew that would get you moving. Tally-ho!  
  
*  
  
Here it is everyone, the 'Prancing Pony'. I do apologise for the very un- Tolkein-ish look, what with all those neon lights and rather [blush] scantily clad 'women of the night' upon the corner. I do apologise. Oh, and young men, I would advise against going over to those young ladies... The last man they took on business was found completely drained of blood in a coffin of all things. Funny old world, isn't it? Not going to go? Oh, marvellous, good, good!  
  
Let's go in. Phwoar, it's a lot warmer in here than outside. Again, I will apologise for this place...as far as I know, those pole-dancers weren't here the last time I visited. Oh dear me, I'm not sure we're in the right place at all. You, young man, get back here at once! Don't tou- Too late. Please ladies and gentleman, back away from the lust-daemon, and exit through the swing doors to the left. If you won't follow my instructions, I'm afraid you may find yourselves in danger. Please, stick close now, and don't wander off.  
  
Aha, here it is - the landlord likes to swap residences every so often to keep off the tax rebuttals. It's not bad here, is it? Shame about the pool table taking up so much room though - if you all squish onto that windowsill I think we'll all fit. OK, drinks all round then? What, orange juice! That won't do I'm afraid Miss, it has to be an alcoholic beverage, otherwise this whole exercise will be useless, and you will be left behind here whilst the rest of the drunken masses come with me to Middle Earth. All right, a Bacardi Breezer to ease you into it then? Good, so a Bacardi Breezer, and the rest for beer?  
  
Wonderful! Now, Bert! Bert, hello?  
  
If you'd just put the shotgun down Bert... I'm not a tax collector, I swear! Remember, I'm Soda from down the road. Yes, that's right, you remember. Thank you, I'd love to order. See that party of people over there - they all want beers, but one of them would like a Bacardi Breezer to start off with - Cranberry or Melon my dear? Cranberry. I'll leave you to count them all out; oh, and can you just give me your strongest liquor if you please. Oh no, money is no object. Of course I'm underage! You know that. Now, stop with the silly questions, and start serving man!  
  
Ack, finally. Sorry about the locals, they're all a bit edgy around here. What was that? Why do I get the strongest liquor? I would have thought that was obvious! No? Well, as your guide through all of this, I will need to remain at the front of the party, and, well, not to boast, but I can hold my drink, so I need to have some strong stuff to keep ahead of all of you.  
  
You laugh sir? Well, humph! Oh, thank you Bert. 'Gut-blaster whisky, 1968' - mm, a good year was it? Oh...it wasn't. Oh well, here goes; come and collect your drinks everyone, and get started!  
  
[Glug]. O.O That stuff's strong. By gum, look at that, the ceiling's moving! Am I sexy? Do you think I'm sexy? I think you're sexy. Oh yes I do sir, you're very nice. [Collapsing sound.]  
  
[Snores]  
  
~*~*~*~ The Next Day ~*~*~*~  
  
Oh God...what on Earth did I drink yesterday? OH! Of course, we were trying to get into Middle Earth, weren't we? Did it work?  
  
Hello? Oh dear goodness, where have they all gone? Hello, hello? I know we didn't manage to get in, but there's no reason to hide or run away - surely, there must be another way to get in... Anyone?  
  
Wait a minute... What if... They got in. And I didn't?  
  
Bugger it! That just takes the biscuit! The actual leader doesn't manage to get through, but the rest of them do! Just great that is! ARGH! Why me? How on earth can that be the least bit fair, hmm? Come on, smite me! Smite me damnit, and send me to the weird world of elves, hobbits, dwarves and...other things. Whoa, this hangover is even making me forget about Tolkein!  
  
This isn't fair. [Cries.] I was supposed to be getting in, not them. It was my idea! This is my self-insertion, and here I am, the only one left of the whole group not in. Stupid, stupid magic stuff. I hate it! Stupid, stupid!  
  
Eep! Oh, it's you Miss. Bacardi Breezer, right? What's that you say. You know a way to get there without getting drunk. Well...why didn't you say something earlier! You didn't want to miss out on free drinks... Oh, thanks a bunch, you greedy bi- Oh, what's that shiny thing you're holding.  
  
Don't be absurd, there's no such thing as magic! Now, grow up, and tell me the real way to get to...  
  
Middle Earth! So I did manage to get here after all! Thank you Miss Bacardi Breezer woman! Miss? What the hell is it with people disappearing all around me? Is this the effect that self-insertion fiction really has? How odd...oh well, I'd best take this sword which is about twice my height and far too heavy, and try to beat up Aragorn or something.  
  
Wait a minute...  
  
Twice my height.  
  
Opposed to just being too heavy for me to lift. No. I have to be imagining this. I knew I wouldn't get to choose which race I would be part of, but this can't be. This wouldn't be at all fair if what I think is true. I must find myself a pool of water or a mirror or something! (Let's make that I must find something with a reflective surface, that will show me without distorting the image or using any kind of magic to trick me and so on and so-forth).  
  
Here we are, a nice conveniently placed mirror on this here tree. Oh, there's Rivendell over there - what a waterfall! Much better in person than I thought it would be. I wonder if Frodo is already awake and talking to Bilbo about his book, or if Gandalf has even arrived yet... Hmm, anyway, back to this weirdly placed mirror.  
  
I know it's only five foot off the ground, but I can't see in it. How odd. I was sure I'd grown a bit in the past year... Oh, a set of steps, how quaint! Let's ascend them, and see whether I really am a... Oh dear, I am.  
  
Marvellous. Spiffing.  
  
I'm a hobbit. A bloody hobbit! Of all the races (the pretty ones at least), I had to be a hobbit! Well, I suppose one must look on the bright side. At least I'm not a dwarf [flinches, as if expecting to be turned into a dwarf at any moment]. Curses. It looks like this completely unfeasible weapon is even more unfeasible for use by a now very short girl. I'll have to leave it behind.  
  
Now, to get to Rivendell, and use the magical powers I'm sure I will of course discover in order to save the world. Maybe I'm actually the long- lost sister of Frodo (since I'm a hobbit and all), and together we will save the world. Or, maybe I will in fact be the real bearer of the ring, and will then discover an unheard of ring and use it's powers to beat Sauron and all his dark forces with one hand tied behind my back!  
  
We shall see, we shall see...  
  
~/*\~/*\~/*\~  
  
Parodies are made for the sole use of the strange enjoyment of the author. However, if you actually found any of this funny, the author would be interested in a kindred spirit of humour to talk to. So review...or I'll...actually, just review...or not...whatever you like really...bye now. 


	2. Chapter two

Satirical misadventures  
  
Against my orders, the muses decided to write this, using me as the mechanical means. Blast them...yes, it was meant to be a one shot, but it doesn't look like it anymore!  
  
~/*\~/*\~/*\~ Chapter two: And now that I'm here, let's do things a cave troll might find unethical to all the male characters I find attractive! (And be mean to Boromir in the process.) ~/*\~/*\~/*\~  
  
Well, here we are everyone - Rivendell. There's Elrond; I'll just go talk to him, since I can naturally speak elvish perfectly, and he will take me under his wing like a long lost daughter and dote on me like nobody's business. Maybe he'll have some kind of unbelievable spell which will 'reveal' that I am indeed actually a beautiful faerie/angel/sorceress maid, in hiding from both Sauron and Saruman because of my amazing powers?  
  
These multi-coloured eyes of mine are rather out of the ordinary for a hobbit-lass after all. And, all this long, flowing blonde hair (with black, blue, green, purple, pink, red, silver, gold, white, brown, orange, grey, and aubergine stripes), isn't very common either, at least, as far as I know...  
  
"My Lord Elrond, how fare ye?" (Naturally, being elfin, Elrond must speak in this terrible interpretation of olde English.) Hmm, it's rather unnerving being this small, I have to say... And, well, since I've had to shrink my ridiculously over-sized sword using my newly discovered magical powers (of course, more powerful than Sauron and Saruman combined, but don't tell, shh!), I don't even have a long reach to prod this stately elf on the shoulder.  
  
"Huh? Oh, hi, how's it going my sister?" the elf replies. This is rather confusing, but, then I remember - Elrond must have become rather cool and hip of late, since that huge water-sports centre got built below the waterfall at the bottom of the valley! All those foreign tourists - do you think the rest of the group might have gone there?  
  
"It's going pretty wicked I've got to say my mate! Though, do you think you could get me outta this hobbit body and into something more comfortable?"  
  
"Of course," wow! Elves have wands - hmm, he reminds me of someone.almost like an older version of Remus Lupin from the Harry Potter books. Less attractive, but still with a strangely compelling swish and flick.  
  
ARGH! Flashing lights surrounding me right now - back away everyone, they may blind you! Eep!  
  
The floor looks so much farther away than it did before...actually, my feet aren't touching it... Fancy that, I've got wings - big sparkly pretty wings that anyone could easily hack off, if they weren't as fine as gossamer, and as tough as Teflon bullets, heh! Oh, and my attire's changed somewhat [twirls]. What do you think? Maybe the pointless one piece of armour on my right forearm is a little much, but I think the violet floor length dress and corseted top should make it really easy to get around without being spotted by the enemy, don't you? And, well, it won't hurt when I meet the future fellowship, will it?  
  
I wish I knew where that group was - some of the lads in it looked like they might have the potential to become pretty elf boys...oh well...  
  
No matter, I shall leave Elrond, and go in search of some (conveniently half naked) future fellowship members. I wonder if anyone would be on the shooting range (which would of course exist in the house of Elrond, or else how would I show off my marvellous shooting skills?)  
  
Aha! Here we are, the shooting range! And, wow...Legolas, shirtless, teaching the hobbits how to fire longbows. No matter that they're only half the height of the things, at least they're trying! I think I'll just butt in here, "Excuse me, may I have a go?" Right - pull the string back, keep it taught for a few seconds (even though, normally, someone my size and weight wouldn't even be able to pull the string back in the first place), and then let the arrow fly...  
  
[Thunk.] "In the centre lady, that's rather-" Legolas turns to face me, and I can tell that his heart misses a beat. In fact, it misses so many beats upon seeing my radiant and exceptionally beautiful face/figure/multicoloured hair/nose and so on, that he has a heart attack on the spot! Marvellous! Now I can put into practice my medical skills - watch everyone, as I revive this pretty man with just one kiss.  
  
"Wh-where am I?" Doesn't he look adorable when he's disoriented? Aww!  
  
"It's all right, my darling elf - you're safe with me." He looks up at me, from where I cradle his head in my lap, and smiles happily, before closing his eyes and promptly falling asleep on me. I don't mind. My legs may go numb, and I may be ravaged by a few horny looking hobbits (not that I'd mind...) whilst I wait for him to wake, but it's worth it.  
  
When he wakes up, I bet he'll ask me to marry him. Go on, twenty bucks that he will. [Passes round a hat].  
  
*  
  
He's coming round. "Oh, hello again, Dettol!" How did he know my name, I didn't even tell him! It must be some sort of psychic link between us - oh, how romantic! Go on, ask me to marry you. "Will you do me the honour of accept-"  
  
"Legolas?" Looking up, we both see a confused looking Boromir looking down on the both of us. He blinks a couple of times, and then after a roving eye of approval over me, returns his eyes to the elf. "The council is about to start. Elrond said that you're to bring a fairy named Dettol with you." Finally, I was beginning to think I'd got the year wrong or something.  
  
Boromir's gone now, so Legolas and I can probably use about five minutes of time to great advantage. Look at him - I mean - wow. How can I even be worthy?  
  
Almost as though he senses my worry, Legolas heart skips a beat for me (only once this time, thank God!) He sits up, and pulls me into his arms, and places a deep, heart warming kiss on my lips. Feeling eyes on us, I blink open my own, and look to see more than one person standing in the shadows, looking enviously on. (Oh, how I will enjoy this. I'm pretty and everything! I can have squicky fun with all!)  
  
*  
  
Looking at the company of people already going with the ring, I almost died of dehydration due to the constant string of drool coming from my open mouth. Could Aragorn possibly wear any tighter leather trousers without seriously damaging himself? And, well...I'm sure that Legolas' tights are actually painted on. They must be.  
  
"I'll go as well - I'm sure I could be of some help."  
  
"Pah! You're just a woman. What use could you be, you weak creature! Go back to your sewing like a good girl!" Boromir spat vehemently at me, taking on a surprisingly effeminate stance, laying one hand on his right hip with practised ease. Taking offence to this sexism (and blatantly forgetting that women are indeed more fragile here, and the only reason for his concern is that women must bear many children, since many die young, so women must stay safe), I raise my sword (somehow again the right oversize for me.)  
  
"To keep my honour, I must challenge you. You can decline, I don't want to hurt you," I say kindly. Scoffing, he raises his own sword half-heartedly. In one horizontal slash, I manage to disarm him, and with a little leap, I have pinned him to the floor. My hair is still perfect, my eyes flashing red in anger, and my chest heaving in an ever so attractive way, and all eyes are on me as I point my sword at his neck.  
  
"Do you surrender?" I ask breathily into his ear, and he shudders pleasurably.  
  
"I do," I get off of him, and pull him easily off of the floor. He grins, rubs the back of his head, and then apologises properly. "I'm sorry my dear Dettol, I meant nothing by it. I just wouldn't want to think that a beauty such as yourself could be hurt in this quest."  
  
"Don't worry about me," I say, blushing and looking down at the floor. All eyes are still on me, and I flutter my wings to give them something else to look at. How else do you think I'm going to get some squickish fun in here anyway? It's either this or a hobbit orgy (oh!).  
  
On second thoughts, I can probably get away with both - since this is *MY* self-insertion, and I can do what I want! It's a free country, and if you don't like this, why are you still reading? If you can't say anything nice in your review, don't say anything at all!  
  
KOOLZ EVERY1, + WIL C U NEXT TIIIIIME!  
  
~/*\~/*\~/*\~  
  
Again, can I point out that this isn't serious. If this was really the kind of story I wrote, I'd shoot myself. And those generic answers to so called 'flamers' were blatantly knicked from somewhere, though I can't remember where from.  
  
This may get further updates, it may not. Having sporadic bursts of inspiration for millions of fic ideas, some of which won't ever come into fruition. Anyway, will go, and actually ask the muses what the hell they drink. Because whatever it is, they should stop.  
  
Wait, last note. 'Dettol' was an example of an 'elvish/fairy language name' that I've seen. Dettol, is of course, a type of bleach. [Snigger]  
  
Soda [walking off, lamenting the day her muses moved in. The bastards.] 


	3. Chapter three

**Satirical misadventures**  
  
_Hello, and welcome to another instalment of 'Satirical misadventures', which will hopefully rid me of my writer's block, and allow me to continue with things not in the humour section. I will be blaming this whole thing on new authors, and their ineffable need to create Mary Sues. [Sniggers] Yes, I'm an elitist moo, I know, I know...  
_  
_**Chapter three: In which the fairy discovers she is the last hope for the continuation of the fairy race**_  
  
I must say, all this travelling we're doing is really beginning to wear on the old wings. Heck, I might even have to start walking or something if things carry on like this! And then, I wouldn't have quite such a good view of dearest Legolas, who's running along in the trees by the road; he said he needed to 'let off some steam'. Personally, I believe what he really needs to do is relieve himself of those tights...  
  
Almost as if he has heard my thoughts, he turns around to look at me adoringly, and yet in a pained way as well. For, you see, as the last woman of the fairy kind, I am destined to marry the last living member of the royal family, his royal highness, prince Menthol. So, my love for Legolas and his love for me just cannot be allowed to go on!  
  
I turn away, unable to look upon his radiant face – the hobbits are looking weary up ahead, and, though I too am tired, I flutter forwards to fly beside them. The eyes of Boromir and Aragorn almost burn into my neck, and, I fear, so to do the eyes of Gimli. (Look, a girl has to draw the line somewhere, and the line is most _definitely_ drawn there!)  
  
"My dearest hobbits, are you weary?" I ask the four of them, taking special interest in exactly what Merry and Pippin are doing... "Are those...?" I flutter down so that I can walk beside them, and Merry and Pippin move so that they walk either side of me. Carefully, seemingly afeared that I will break if they are too rough, they each take one of my hands.  
  
I just smile, and listen to their little voices. "...so, you see Dettol, these fireworks here, they'll make this big explosion right,"  
  
"Yeah, and then they'll leave these sparkles all over the sky,"  
  
"And they'll match your wings and your hair you see!" they finished together, voices in melodious merriment.  
  
"And then," a voice whispered in my ear, "you will meet me beneath the moonlight, to be serenaded by the nightingale." I turned around to see who had spoken; but, the rest of the fellowship stood behind the three of us, and I had no idea whose intent it was to woo me. Blushing slightly at this thought, I turned back around, and relinquished the hands of the hobbits.  
  
In a sudden burst of energy, I sprang back into the air, and turned cartwheels in the air. All of them watched in delight, applauding as I touched down again after my acrobatic display!  
  
"That was amazing!" Legolas purred, leaning against a tree and posturing himself provocatively. "Most...impressive..." he finished, grinning audaciously. I felt myself pulled to him, desperate to be in his warm embrace; I wished to kiss those fair lips passionately, and for him to hold me, and...oh!  
  
But it cannot be! I looked away from him, towards the great mountains. He advanced, reaching out to take my hands, but I withdrew them. "No, Legolas. We cannot. I...I have to do what's best for my people!" He doesn't give up, and instead cups my face.  
  
"But what about what is best for you, my love?" Tears well up in my eyes, and I push him away.  
  
"I'm nothing compared to a whole race!" I yell, and then I take off, flying hither and thither through the air, unsure of where exactly I'm going. Hell, I know I'll end up back with the fellowship eventually, or else the story won't continue, but, at the moment, I'm getting myself lost!

* * *

Finally, I come to rest in a small quite glade. The birds are chirping in the trees, and there is a small bubbling brook in the centre. Feeling weary and travel-worn after our day on the road, I decided that I may as well take the opportunity to bathe.  
  
So, slipping down to my undergarments (surprisingly modern for Middle Earth, being a foxy little red bra and pantie number), I parade around the clearing for a bit, just waiting for the sounds of the fellowship to come to my ears. Then, as soon as I'm sure that they are coming, I walk up to the edge of the large pool that the stream makes in the middle of the glade, and take off my underwear. My petite frame is encumbered with flawless pale skin, and I dive in just as Legolas, Aragorn and Frodo reach the clearing!  
  
Surfacing again, I notice them. "Oh!" I duck back down in the water, but, alas, they have already seen everything! (And so my plan comes together, Hehehe!)  
  
"My lady, we are so sorry!" Aragorn exclaims, whilst quite obviously straining his eyes to see through the clear water to my supple body underneath. Legolas has politely averted his eyes, and they widen as he spots the underwear lying by the pool. Frodo looks mystified by the whole turn of affairs, and is blushing adorably.  
  
I, however, being the sexy beast that I am, am nonetheless bashful. "Urm...would you mind awfully just turning...so I can...get out...maybe...?" I stammer, readying myself to get out of the pool. They agree and turn away, though I can see more than one of them angling their swords, daggers (and in Gimli's case, his axe,) in order to spy on me.  
  
I make sure they get their money's worth.  
  
When I am done dressing, my hair is spectacularly dry and perfectly in place again. I smooth down the skirts of my dress, and then adorn my hair with wildflowers from the dell.  
  
Suddenly, there is the sound of running feet, and, quick as a flash, I grab the ring bearer, and take off. "Wh-where are you taking me?"  
  
"As far away from here as possible! That must be Menthol, trying to track me down, and you as well. I fear he's not the man we all thought he was – he has joined Saruman!" Legolas, sprinting to keep up with us below, gasps audibly. I look down, and when I look up again from spying on my love, I see that there is a tree in the way. There is no time to swerve, and the ring bearer and I crash into it head on!  
  
"NO! DETTOL!" Legolas exclaims, as we spiral off into the distance, out of his sight.  
  
A hand reaches out and grabs us, stopping our fall. My joy turns to horror when I realise it is none other than Menthol himself. "Let me go you beast!"  
  
"I think not!" he growls, manhandling me in a way that no lady should be manhandled! His eyes settled on my heaving chest, and I slapped him. He slapped me right back, and I collapsed to the ground with a feeble cry.  
  
"You, you monster!" I sob, looking up at him. "Let him go, he has nothing to do with this!"  
  
"He has everything to do with this!"  
  
"LET THEM GO!" Suddenly, the rest of the fellowship is here. I blanch, because I know they don't stand a chance against Menthol. Only a fairy can fight with another fairy and win – and I was in no state to fight him. It was hopeless!  
  
_You can do it._ A voice suddenly said. I was confused, because I didn't know where it was coming from. _I'm you're mother. And I know that this fairy man is evil. Go to your love – the elf. You have the strength to do this little one, I know you do. I believe in you! Now, get up, and show him you powers!  
_  
I may have been bleeding, and my legs may well have been broken, but, I got up anyway. "Back off guys. He's mine," I say, and, quick as lightning, I have the ring bearer back in my arms. "It's all right Frodo, you're safe now," I tell him, kissing him lightly on his curly hair. Then, I turn back to the Menthol, who is looking murderous!  
  
"You – you bitch! I swear, when you marry me, you'll never be allowed this much freedom again! You'll stay in the house like a proper little woman!" I glower at this comment, and all the anger that's been building up suddenly erupts from inside of me.  
  
I curl my dainty, ring clad hands into fists, and fiery magic forms around them both. Then, I punch him hard on the face! "I'm a 'lady', not some freaking possession of yours, you sexist pig!" I yell as I fire more volleys of magic at him. But, even as he falls, he manages to clip with dark magic.  
  
The air rushes out of my body, and I collapse onto the ground. Legolas is there with me in a second, and I look up at him, trying to speak through lips that are spilling precious blood. He shushes me with a finger. "Shh, it'll be all right."  
  
"No...no," I sob, shuddering with each breath I take. "Legolas...I...I think I'm dying," I admit, looking into his eyes with all the love I can muster. I see the tears form, and I cry with him, as all the strength leaves me.  
  
"Please, don't leave me." He leans down and whispers into my ear. "I love you."  
  
"Legolas," I say, smiling through the pain, "I'll always be with you...no matter what!" And then...it's all black.  
  
_It's not your time yet. The elf needs you. You must go back.  
_  
I don't know how much time later it was, but, I opened my eyes again, and coughed slightly. Legolas opened his eyes, and blinked at me a couple of times. Then, he screamed with joy, "You're alive!"  
  
"She's alive?" the rest of the fellowship repeat, looking up from where they had been sitting, crying mournfully for me. "She's alive!" they repeat, gathering around and looking at me adoringly.  
  
"I guess I am," I say, yawning a little. "Must be tougher to kill me than I thought," I say, laughing a little to cheer them up."  
  
"Yeah? Well, don't do it again!" Legolas warned me, taking me up into his arms, and hugging me strongly.

* * *

_This whole idea is basically taken from a myriad of fics I've seen. The idea of the last two fairies, I have to admit, was actually a parody of a very good story I once read (but I can't remember for the life of me where I read it, or what it was called.) The death scene was the basic death scene that all writers have used at one time or another with a Mary Sue/ Barry Stu story. Don't do it. The voices in the head was the generic 'I am your guardian angel and I've come to save you, bla, bla, bla' rubbish.   
  
Also, the changing of tenses throughout was intentional. I just wanted to make a point on how annoying that is when you're trying to get stuck into a story, and its suddenly in the present instead of past, or future instead of present, and things like that. Take spelling mistakes as if they're meant to be there (even the ones that aren't, heh!)  
  
Again, don't blame me. Blame the other writers for being so bad that they just begged to be made fun of. [Smirk] _


End file.
